Free Changing of the Glads by Joy Spraycar Page A

ebony.  Everything faded when she felt his blade sawing into her skull.
     
     
    ***
     
    Soft cello music dimmed as Zalphia came back to consciousness.  She floated on a feathery cloud, and a light breeze cooled her fevered skin.  Darkness met her eyes when they opened.  No longer did the tall trees reach for the sky. Instead, they grew sideways, but no branches, leaves, or green graced the trunks.  Grass grew overhead, not on the ground where it belonged.  It reminded her of a cage.  However, there were no bars covering the way to the outside.  A solid wall of wood surrounded her and the only opening, which sat on the wall opposite where she lay, was covered with more wood. 
    What was this place?  Somehow it seemed familiar, but try as she might, she couldn’t place why or what to call it.  She slid her hands over the material covering her.  It felt like water but solid and smooth.  Her head rested on another type of cloud.  One so soft she seemed to float.  Reaching up to her hairline, she felt a raised ridge. The pounding was gone, replaced by a gentle, calm feeling. 
    Max.   His mind remained inside hers, holding her tenderly.  His strength flowed into her body. 
    She sucked in a quick breath.  This feeling – she’d felt it before when she had been hurt during her first match in the arena.
    The door opened, and Max entered, carrying a stick with flame on the end, which he placed in a holder on the wall.  “Zalphia, you’re awake.  Thank goodness.”  He pulled a chair close and sat.
    She reached for his hand.  “Max, what happened?”
    He took her outstretched fingers between his palms.  “The Glad trainer put a tiny grain inside your head, tucked into your brain.”  He pointed to his head.  “In the gray matter.  That way, if you moved too far away from her, your brain... well, you would die.”
    “Platy would never kill me.  I’ve never done anything to try and leave.  Besides, she adored me and the winning I did.”
    “That maybe so, but the Glad arena is harsh.  Do you not know that trainers have been killed and their Glads stolen?  Platy made sure that would never happen.  Everyone must be aware because no one tried to steal you.  I have been stolen seven times since I began to fight.”  His shoulders slumped, and his eyes darkened.  “I am sorry.  I should have recognized it would be so.”  He brushed her cheek with his finger.
    Closing her eyes, she let his presence seep into every inch of her.  When she opened them again, she smiled.  “You’re so good to me.  How do you know about the tricks and secrets of the arena?”
    “Simeon taught me all he thought I needed to know, but I never dreamed I might have to do something like this out here in the wilderness.  And cutting you the way I did, I feared I would be the one to kill you.”
    “How could you kill me?  You were saving me from – what did you call it?”
    “A chip.  You could not understand.  I had to open up your head and take it out.  A very delicate procedure to be performed with only just a knife.  It was necessary to use the poison from the sticks on you, and for that, I am sorry.”
    “I don’t remember anything but the pain.  Thank you.  You saved me. Again.”
    “You still have no understanding about us, but you will.  Are you hungry?”
    “How long have I been asleep?  And where are we?”
    “You have been unconscious for three days.  For all that time, I tried to heal you, but it has been slow.  I was afraid I went too far into your brain and left you unresponsive.  You have no idea how glad I am to see your eyes open.”
    She reached up to the raised ridge where he had cut into her head.  “How’d you do all this?”
    “That is not important.  What is important is that you are alive and awake.  Now, are you hungry?”
    “No.”  She glanced again at her surroundings.  “This place is strange.  What is it?”
    “It is called a cabin, a hunter’s